


Insomniac

by JustAnotherWhumper



Series: Whumptober 2018 [3]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alice is a Bitch, Eliot is very concerned, I didn't do any of the prompts oof, Implied Queliot, Insomnia, Like a real asshole, M/M, Niffin Alice - Freeform, Prompt 3:Insommnia, Queliot is happening, Quentin is a sad boi, Quentin just wants to be held, Sad boi hours, This is now whumpvember 2018, Whump, Whumptober 2018, innsomniac Quentin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherWhumper/pseuds/JustAnotherWhumper
Summary: Quentin keeps seeing Alice, she taunts him so much that he hasn't really slept in weeks, finally, Eliot gets up to help him.





	Insomniac

 

He kept seeing her everywhere. In the walls, in the doors, inside mirrors.  _ In his dreams.  _ Every time he closed his eyes he saw her body, lying on the ground with a ring of burnt grass around her. Blue flames still danced across her skin, not yet extinguished. He had the faint sensation of Eliot holding him, rocking him back and forth, preventing him from going to her, from holding her one last time. He saw that, every night behind his eyes. He hadn’t slept in weeks. At the few welcome times he did sleep Eliot or Margo would find him drenched in a cold sweat, screaming her name. 

Quentin laid down on his bed, he didn’t even know what time it was, and he didn’t care. Tiredness lay upon him like a thick cloud, and he didn't want to do anything. Except sleep. But he couldn't. He felt himself slowly drifting off for what felt like the millionth time. Maybe, just maybe this time would be different.

_ The beast, throwing a magical bolt at her, the feeling of feet lifting off ground. Pain, his shoulder hanging by a thread onto his body.  Burning. Dark cold fire. Consuming her. Moths fluttering out of the beast’s carcass. Her body, on the ground, dead.  _

He woke up, heart beating crazily in his chest,  _ I’m never sleeping again  _ he thought. He tried to stand, but a splitting headache rocked his brain. Images swirled against his mind as he sat down again.  _ Ok. Ok. Maybe not standing time right now. I get it.  _ When had he slept last? Days? Weeks? He didn’t know. Maybe food would help? Slowly, he lifted himself from the sweat soaked blankets on his bed and stood up. The ground seemed to pitch and roll under him as he stumbled down the stairs into the main room of the physical kids cottage. Darkness was like a thick blanket over everything, the only light source being the gaudy TADA sign on the far wall. Quentin made a beeline for the bar cart grabbing anything he could get his hands on and throwing it all in glass. It was probably whiskey, fireball, some peppermint schnapps, and a whole fuckload of vodka.  _ ‘Good, maybe this will knock me out,’ _  He thought as he chugged down the awful concoction. He didn't even care that it tasted like a donkey’s asshole, or that when it hit his stomach he almost threw up. Then he saw her. Out of the corner of his eye she was there, mocking him, sneering. “ **You look terrible** ,” She said, floating around him lazily. 

Quentin shut his eyes tight. “Get out of my head, get out of my head,  _ get out of my head _ , you are NOT REAL! YOU’RE DEAD!”

“ **Oh but am I? How can you tell?**

Quentin sunk to the floor as tears wracked his body, head pressed to his knees as he shook from the tears. “I’m sorry Alice” He whimpered.

She flew by his face, so close that he could feel the heat from the fire that emanated from her body. “ **You killed me, its your fault”**

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” 

He sat there for what seemed like hours, shaking so violently that it felt like his teeth were going to rattle out of his head. Alice taunted him, swirling around his mind and conjuring up images of her death over and over again. He screamed in his mind, telling her to get out, to shut up, to  _ let him sleep.  _

\-------

Eliot woke up to the sounds of thumping downstairs.  _ God it’s always something isn’t it?  _ He thought with a scoff. Throwing the silk covers off, he stepped on to the floor, getting ready to tell whatever drunk physical kid to stop banging their boyfriend on the wall so loud. He threw a robe on and yanked the door open. “Hey!” He said in a loud whisper “Can you keep it down out there?” There was no answer, but the banging stopped. Eliot was about to walk back to his room when he thought he heard crying.  _ Ok no. Definitely not sex then, unless they are really kinky.  _ He strode down the hallway and peaked down the stairs with a soft “Hello?” A small body was tucked into the corner by the bar cart, seemingly trying to meld with the wall. Eliot whipped his hands around into a simple light spell, and a small orb appeared above his head and floated around him like a makeshift halo. The small light illuminated Quentin’s face, still tucked into his knees, sweater soaked with tears and booze that had missed his mouth. Eliot sat back on his heels and rocked closer to Quentin. “Hey… Hey… Q… what's wrong… ” Eliot’s heart fell as he took in Quentin’s pale face, eyes shadowed by dark circles as tears streamed down his cheeks to drip to the floor. Eliot walked around his friend and put his arm around him, using his other hand to brush the matted hair out of his face. “Hey Q,” he said softly. “When was the last time you slept, buddy?” The man's response was almost silent, and Eliot had to strain his ears to hear even though he was right next to him. 

“I-I don’t know… probably a week”

“What!?” He said, probably a little too loudly, making Quentin flinch and cower more in the corner. “Is it Alice?” Eliot queried.

“ **Yes, it** **_is_ ** **me Eliot, and I'm never going to leave, never ever in your miserable existence, until Quentin throws his weak, useless body off a cliff!”** Quentin shook harder now, balling his fists in his hair and shouting.

“Get out! Eliot, I can’t get her out of my head!” Eliot spun Quentin around now, grabbing his cheeks and staring directly into his eyes.

“Quentin. She’s. Not. Real. She’s dead, and I know that's hard to hear, but you have to let go. Tell her to shut up. Tell her to go away.”

“Ok… Ok…” Quentin said, slowly pushing himself up to a standing position, using Eliot as a brace for his wobbly legs. Eliot kept his hands around his friend all the way up the stairs, muttering words of encouragement every few seconds. When they finally reached Quentin’s room, Eliot opened the door and shepherded the man to the bed in the middle of the room. “I don’t know why your doing this Eliot, I can’t sleep” Quentin finally said, once he’d settled in.

Eliot scoffed and sat on the other side. “Quentin, you will sleep and forget about her.  I will literally tie you to this bed and make you get a good night's rest.” 

“I… I don’t know… e-every time I close my eyes… she’s there. A-and now its not even when I’m asleep, it’s when I’m awake too! She’s in my head all the time” Quentins breath hitched on the last word, and he started to shudder again. Eliot wrapped his arms around him, and cradled his head near the center of his chest. Quentin could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the slow thumping making his eyes close. For once, he actually felt calm.

Suddenly she was next to him, screaming in his ear. “ **You killed me, my body burned! Don’t you remember? It’s your fault, Quentin. I’m dead because of you! It’s your fault!”**

Quentin nestled deeper into Eliot’s arms. “Shut up,” he muttered quietly as he fell into a deep for the first time in weeks.


End file.
